


A Ruined Arrangement

by Chubbycubby



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Just the Tip, Rough Oral Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2019-10-05 23:34:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17334476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chubbycubby/pseuds/Chubbycubby
Summary: In a desperate attempt to make his younger son settle down, Sojiro decides to marry him off. Genji pays you to ensure that his father finds you an unsuitable bride. All you have to do is ruin your own interview.[abandoned]





	1. Chapter 1

As Genji’s friend, you’re obligated to help him when he’s in a tight spot, but this is more like a rock and a hard place. Shimada Sojiro-sama’s logic is once Genji has a family of his own, he’ll settle down, a laughable idea. However, when he asked, you told him it was an excellent plan, so that, when he approached you for a spousal interview, you were triply obligated to agree. You had to back up your lie, show your respect, and, you owed the Shimadas _a lot_ of money.

 

That’s why Genji offered you a large bribe to go through with the interview, but take a dive on it. You’re apparently a last resort, so if you’re found unsuitable, it’s likely Dad will give up and let Genji off the hook. Sure, you would be set for life if this match was made, but you’re sure as hell not ready to join a crime family any time soon, and Genji has a whole a lot ho left in him. So you took the money, caught up on your other bills and bought yourself a wholly inappropriate outfit for the occasion.

 

The V-neck and shorty-short become all the more gaudy once you’re inside the formal, traditional Shimada Castle. Mooks eye you from all angles, but you play it cool, remembering that Shimada-sama can, and will, snap your neck if he suspects you’re intentionally wasting his time. It was incredibly rare that anyone got alone with him,so even _if_ he let you go, someone else might wring your neck for squandering the opportunity.

 

It wouldn’t be hard to throw this chance, though; being in his bedroom already made you nervous. Not that you were anywhere close to thebed side of the room. Instead you kneel before a low table where he probably took his breakfast and got ready for the day. You can only suspect, however, as the room is neat as a pin, without a single personal effect visible except the fancy pen he was using to mark up your resume as he questioned you.

 

Yes, this was for a marriage, but the interview felt more like a management position. The question are woefully standard: What are your strengths?Weaknesses? Why do you want this position? Where do you see yourself in five years? Ten?

 

You reply to all of them with polite honorifics attached, but you hadn’t practice a single answer, instead working totally off-the-cuff, which went as well as it could go when you’re this nervous. You just need to screw this up, get the other half of your money, andstay away from the damn slot machines, then you’ll have your life back on track.

 

“Well then,” Sojiro says, looking down at his notes, “Any questions for me?”

 

Anyone will tell you if you want the job, you should always ask questions. You _could_ ask something incredibly inappropriate, like, how much money will I get? Will there be a pre-nup? How did you get those kick ass scars? But you settle on an informal shrug and “Nah, I’m good. Thanks though.”

 

Sojiro pauses.You’re going to break from the pressure, wanting nothing more than to be dismissed and waved away.

 

“At this time, I would like to formally offer your hand in marriage to my second-born son, Shimada Genji.”

 

You’re stunned by the entire sentence, front to back, its formality, the offer itself, how you’re being offered to him, Shimada-sama’s extended his hand waiting for a firm, businesslike handshake.

 

He smiles at you. “I know you are not the most formal of candidates, but you’ve been the most honest and comfortable with me. You are already friends with Genji, so the match is well-suited.”

 

“Really? That’s it?” you scoff. Internally, you’re panicking. The money is already spent, and you have no idea how you could even begin to pay Genji back when you still have a mountain of bills waiting for you. Of course you would get money once married, but that could take years for all you know.

 

Sojiro is stunned silent by your attitude, that you would even have the balls to speak to him like that. You won’t even look at him! Or his handshake, crossing your arms over your chest and glancing away before you speak again.

 

“Really? This. This hour? Maybe? That we spent in here, that’s all you need to decide that your son should be with me, forever and ever? Really? That’s the level of care you’re putting into this?” you say, feigning being insulted, and adding, “Is it because he’s your youngest son?”

 

Sojiro smashes his hand on the table, and you jump back, but he soon collects his temper. “I appreciate your concern about Genji, but I already know you. This was more or less a formality. I can assure you that I love both of my sons equally, and if there’s anymore question about it, I will settle it _firmly._ ”

 

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the way to go, in fact perhaps it was in your best interest to backtrack. “All I’m saying is, there’s way more to marriage than just… being friends. There’s a certain amount of, you know, passion needed.” And you seal that with a wink as Plan B formulates in your mind.

 

You swear he blushes when he replies, “I have two children. Consider me informed on the matter.”

 

You lean forward, closing the space between the two of you. “I mean, you want to make sure Genji is happy, right?”

 

“This is not a casting couch!”

 

“Why not?” you ask coyly, moving even closer, noting that he hasn’t made any effort to move backwards, and now there was a definite flush in his etched cheeks.

 

“I could not possibly offer Genji someone I had previously violated,” Sojiro snaps, “What you’re suggesting could nullify the very offer on the table!”

 

You crawl forward, now on the table, touch his neck. The man shivers before stumbling back, a delightfully strong reaction to such a gentle brush. You purr, “Discretion is key in this business… No one has to know.”

 

“I… couldn’t,” he replies, but he’s certainly thinking about it. You thought the sleazy outfit might’ve had you thrown out before the interview could even start, but now it’s working to your advantage as he can see straight down your shirt, casually shifting his robes around to cover his hardening cock.

 

“Oh…” you say, glancing down, “It’s okay. I understand. It’s been awhile and things don’t work like they used to.”

 

“You have some fucking nerve!” he retorts when you try to pat his chest, snatching your wrist and holding it away from him. Off balance, your other hand lands on his thigh to steady yourself, the billowy fabric now pulled so the bulge in his pants is plain to see.

 

Forgetting about your act, you groan with wide eyes, “Damn…”

 

“You’re a fucking slut,” he growls, his other hand taking a fistful of your hair. It doesn’t matter that you’re not in a good position, he forces you down into his crotch as you scramble to reposition yourself. He buries your face in the silk, your lips able to feel the shape through the many layers. It occurs to you that no man could have become so hard, so quickly; he must have been concealing himself for much longer than you realized.

 

“No one has to know, right?” he mocks you, smearing your face into it, your hot breath barely making it to his cock, still giving it twitches of pleasure from the tangent heat. It’s been years since he’s had anyone’s company and he swears he could come just from this. He can’t let himself be distracted, though, as you’re trying to work your arm out of his control. He twists it back, pinning it behind you and making you moan.

 

“You’re an eager whore, perfect for bearing lots of Shimada children.”

 

“But I want your cock down my throat,” you protest.

 

He sighs hotly at that, his mind becoming more torn as his hips unconsciously grind over you, your lips wrapping around the outline as best they could. You resist against his hold, pulling your head down so you could suck on his balls from the outside and hear that strong man whimper for you before he collects his senses.

 

“You have another free hand. Get what you want,” he orders you and immediately you pull on the fabric to free his cock. Still fighting his restraint, you can run your tongue from the bottom to the tip, over it until your lips part and take him in. As soon as your tongue rolls over the head, Sojiro seizes control again, tightening his grip on your hair, forcing you farther onto the shaft. Drops of saliva roll down as the head stretches the back of your throat in a moment of pure bliss that almost makes him finish right there.

 

He can’t let it end, and drags you back up to let your lap the precum from the tip before giving you the palest part of his dick. How many times had he caught an eyeful of you stumbling in from a drunken escapade? How many times had Genji tried to rile his brother with a saucy tale of your adventures, unaware his father was listening intently? Sojiro knows what you’re capable of and he wants to have it all, even if it’s not today.

 

He stops that thought, telling himself he should pull you off and throw you out without another second of hesitation. Just because you were sucking in your cheeks, pulling yourself down his dick despite his strength, just because he hadn’t had this in ages, just because your tongue rolls on the underside as you moan in delight, just because you shamelessly reach down to touch yourself as you lick his cock clean… His mind is at war and his morality is losing this battle as you thoroughly work him over.

 

“You keep doing that, and I’ll finish in your throat,” he threatens, but the way you look up at him tells Sojiro that was exactly what you wanted. He releases your arm to grab your neck from the front, right where it meets your head. Your nod enthusiastically at the move, and the man revels in feeling of his dick bobbing in and out of your throat, right in his palm.

 

He could take this forever, but doubts you can, commenting when he pulls back, “You’re not used to such a thick cock in your mouth,” as you sputter and gasp for breath.

 

“I love your thick cock in my mouth!” you say between pants.

 

“Fuck,” he grunts, putting it back in so no more of your words could send shivers down his spine, only to realize the scent of your arousal is reaching his nose, threatening to push him over the edge.

 

He tightens his grip to still you completely. He fucks you suddenly, brutally, pounding you as if you were an unbreakable toy. This was wrong. This was awful. This was wonderful, sublime, sinful, immoral, perfect, and everything he needed, which is exactly why he keeps his cock stuffed in your throat even after you gag on it.

 

At your second choke for air, he pulls you off and throws you back, panting, staring at his dick, dripping in your saliva. He should have never let it get this far, but he’smuch too sensitive to put himself away yet, and you look damn good still rubbing yourself like that.

 

“Please let me have your load!” you beg, “Anywhere! In my throat, on my face, in my ass, in my pussy! Please!”

 

He’s desperately trying deep breathing, centering, focusing, anything to calm every nerve on fire but he can hear how wet you are as you continue to pleasure yourself. You’re clever, the way you look at him when you take your fingers out and lick up your own slick, but he won’t give in for that alone.

 

“Please Shimada-sama,” you say, moving closer, the heat of your body enough to make him break out in a cold sweat. He doesn’t protest when you crawl onto his lap, the heat from your sex enough to summon another bead of precum. “Even just the tip…”

 

You shift closer to it, his hands moving against his own will and dipping into your shorts. The softness is incredible and the wet soaks your underwear thoroughly enough to make his breathing is ragged. Pulling his hand back, Sojiro loops his arms around you, so that he could lay you down on the table and admire you from afar.

 

You’ve forgotten all about interviews and bribes, stripping for him until you were completely nude, watching his dazed expression as you begin masturbating for him once more, spreading your legs as you try to entice him. “Please Shimada-sa-”

 

“Sojiro,” he stops you, eyes fixed on that place.

 

“Sojiro…” you reply back, your voice giving him goosebumps.

 

There was no way he could promise you to Genji now that he had seen you like this, but he should still try to preserve some of his dignity. He was the clan head, he was to have an iron will and superior discipline, not slowly inching his dick towards that beautiful pussy. Your hips wind for him, enticing him to move closer and finally live out all those lusty fantasies that he secretly stroked himself to. He knew he should’ve done this interview somewhere public. He knew he would be tempted. But here he is, the head finally brushing you as you rubbed your clit for him.

 

It takes very little to get the head just inside, and every last bit self-restraintneeded not to plunge the entire length into that tight space. One hand smashes down on your hips to stop them, the other holding his cock as he explores the small depth he allowed himself. He loves that so little has made your mouth so filthy, “You have such a nice dick!” being chanted over and over as he slowly works it in.

 

“Shh, shh, shh,” he pleads. You quiet yourself as he pushes forward. The texture is unreal, much less how you quiver and drip onto the table underneath.

 

Your silence is short-lived, as you start to whisper “please, please, please”, each one eroding his will. He lets go of your hip, needing to grip the table tightly to gather his sense but it doesn’t help. You put your fingers to your mouth again, swirling your tongue around, saying his name as the clean fingers drag down your lips.The last of his resistance fades and he buries his cock inside of you.

 

You arch off the table with acry of climax but he gives you no relief. He knows it’s been too long and he won’t have the endurance, but he fucks you as roughly and quickly as he can. You try to say his name again but only a stutter escapes, the thickness of that length taking over your mind. Sojiro slumps over, practically laying on you, and you can hear his groans as his hips snap down on you. It’s steady and thorough, every muscle in his body rocking you hard and giving you peaks of electricity. The sweat is rolling down his face, but he cannot take the time to wipe his brow, instead burying his lips in your shoulder so it doesn’t drip on you. This couldn’t be it; it wouldn’t be the last time. He would fuck you every chance he got, as much as you would let him. He would beg if he had to. He’s squeezed from all sides, coated in wet, listening to the sound of his balls slapping against the bottom of your opening.

 

“Oh fuck, I have to come,” he groans woefully another waves of wet washes over his dick.

 

“Fill my pussy!” you cry out. He grunts, still fucking you, trying to right himself and regain some sanity. You won’t have that at all: “You know I can’t get pregnant. Give me everything! Please! Sojiro!”

 

Grabbing your shoulders, he buries it deep and moans before the first swell fills you. You grind on him slowly, taking the whole load for yourself. Sojiro himself surprised how much he has to give you, pumping you long after he thought possible, those walls never stopping for him. His deep moans because high-pitched, choked sighs the longer his climax goes on until finally there’s nothing left to give.

 

When he’s finally able to pull out, he doesn’t have the strength to sit up, murmuring dreamily, “Can I kiss you?”

 

“Yes,” you say with a shy smile.

 

And when he does, Sojiro swears he’s smitten.


	2. Mixed Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When no one's speaking their mind, there tends to be misunderstandings.

You swiftly realize Genji’s not in his room as you set down the stuff you brought to get ready. You check your phone and there’s a text waiting from the BFF: “Be home in ten!”. Judging by the seventy-five emojis following it, he is trashed, in the process of making new plans, and definitely wouldn’t be home in ten. You regularly invited yourself over here, many a morning Genji would find yo monopolizing the TV, so being here without Genji wasn’t the issue.

 

The real problem was Hanzo and the dirty looks he had been throwing ever since the interview. If he cornered and confronted you on it, you might die, but you’re also super hungry. You clearly had some catching up to do in the drinking department, and you would need to eat before you could even hope to get on Genji’s level. You hold your breath when you round the kitchen corner, your heart dlip-flopping when you saw Sojiro at the sink, getting himself a glass of wter.

 

This is the first time you’ve met since that day. It seemed like he had been avoiding you over this last week, and now you’ve caught him. At a loss for words, trying to think how you talked to him before, politely addressing him, “Hello, Shimada-sama, have you eaten today?” before you help yourself to the fridge.

 

Of course you don’t say his first name, someone might overhear. Sojiro knows you’re a party girl, a free spirit who wouldn’t be tied down by anyone. You have been avoiding him all week, and now you act like nothing has changed. He had no right to let his heart get so ahead of him, and he swallows down his emotion, replying, “I ate less well than I am.”

 

That sounds like a riddle, but you’re not sure what it means, so you ask, “I’m making dumplings, want some?” flashing the bag of leek and cabbage goodness.

 

“Give me a couple,” he says.

 

“Three is lucky,” you quip back, almost making him think you cared whether he ate or not. It wouldn’t bother him that you wanted a strictly physical relationship. You were soft, warm, and discrete, and he was happy to help you out, even if he had to lock all his feelings in a box and bury them, far, far from where anyone could see them.

 

“Do you want orange blossom tea?” you ask, oblivious to his internal struggle, and how having his favorite memorized only complicated his thoughts further.

 

“Absolutely,” he says, sitting down at the table, where you two had shared a few meals in the past. You and Genji were generally not home, but there were moments like this from time to time that you were all his. Secretly, he cherished it.

 

“I always think of you when I see oranges,” you comment.

 

“I always think of you when I smell orange blossoms,” he replies

 

If Genji hadn’t called you, you might have fainted on the spot. Instead, a rush of adrenaline shakes away your blush as you answer the phone, “What’s up?” stopping just short of calling Genji a green mother-fucker in front of his dad.

 

“Biiiiiitch where are you?” Genji says, “You sound high.”

 

Dad did _not_ like how you enabled Genji to do stupid shit, so you watch your words, hoping Sojiro can’t hear Genji’s half of the conversation. “Maybe, why?”

 

“Biiiitch answer my question!”

 

“I’m waiting for you.”

 

“Lame ass ho.”

 

You wish you could ask him how drunk he is without ratting on him. “What’s the plan?”

 

“Okay, okay, okay, bitch, listen, first we go to the casino-”

 

“Genji! No!”

 

“Listen! Hanzo is gonna pay for you to sit at a table with him!”

 

Genji is saying that like Hanzo has a thing for you, but you know one hundred percent Hanzo is gonna try to cheat at a card game, and he probably needs a partner for it.He’s only doing it to tell the casino owner about the new slight like the suck-up he is, and you’re not having it. “No way. I’m not going.”

 

“Bitch we’re going on a yacht after. We’re only going to the casino to get lit off that free Shimada liquor! I won’t let you put a single yen in the pachinko machines, I promise.”

 

“Oh shit,” you answer, “You said we were going to Star 26. I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

 

“I still have your swimsuit from Kaoru’s birthday party.”

 

“Which one?”

 

“The black one with the thong,” would have been fine over the phone, but at that very moment, Genji throws open the front doors and shouts “The black one with the thong” so loudly it echoes through the entire house. Genji finds you in the kitchen, cackling at your embarrassment and waving to his Dad. You play it off, pushing Genji’s drunk ass out of sight before anyone is in trouble for being that wasted at eight PM. You don’t stop pushing until you’ve corralled him into going upstairs. Once in Genji’s room, you start to slap his arm in lieu of kicking his ass for humiliating you like that in front of oyuban.

 

“Who cares?” Genji scoffs,elbowing you as a warning to quit, “He’s already seen you in it.”

 

“When the fuck did he see me in that? I wore it once.”

 

Genji laughs, “Yeah, to Kaoru’s! _I_ was the sober one for that party. It’s five am, I’m rolling my dick off, helping my dad carry you up the stairs- It wasn’t funny then but it’s funny now.”

 

“Yeah,” you say grimly, “I almost died that night. I actually might’ve, for a lcouple minutes.”

 

“Dad wanted to take you to the hopsital. He checked on you probably every ten minutes, to make sure you were still breathing. Oh, he lectured me _good_ for that one. Remember, that’s why we had to cancel going to Fiji?” Genji says as he snatches a new top off a hanger. “By the way, I never asked: How did you convince Dad not to marry us? Hanzo told me it was a done deal.”

 

“Hanzo was _wrong_!” you say with a fake gasp.

 

“He seemed pretty convinced,” Genji says with genuine faith in his brother’s judgment.

 

“The blue one is way better,” you comment, helping yourself to a wine cooler in the mini fridge.

 

“You haven’t answered my question.”

 

“You haven’t changed that ugly ass top,” you retort, “I dunno. He just wasn’t into it. I feel like he changed his mind.”

 

You’re not entirely sure Genji bought your tale, but he doesn’t protest when you divert the conversation once more, “I said the blue one, ho.”

 

Genji had noticed that lately, you were always somewhere between anxious, content, and moody. You’ve become a little more conservative, a little shyer about showing off, and had even cut down on the cursing. He would go as far to say you were acting _ladylike_ which could only mean one thing: you had a crush.

 

Concurrently, you had begun avoiding coming to the his place. On any given day, you could be chilling in the garden or snacking in the kitchen. Hell, you had your own groceries in the fridge and your own toothbrush in the bathroom. Yet, yesterday, you spent a solid five minutes trying to convince Genji you should get ready at your apartment when he was offering free booze here. Obviously, you had a crush on someone in the household.

 

He had already ruled himself out. You two were drunk as _hell_ last night, and like always, nothing ever happened between you two. Plus, his father canceled the engagement plans entirely, and now wore a smile like he knew something. Clearly, you had confessed your feelings for Hanzo, and you don’t want Genji to know. He’s not sure why. He’s already made some very stealthy moves to help you out, ninja style, as subtle as him saying, “Bitch, Hanzo wants you.”

 

You give him a dry look. “No he doesn’t.”

 

“He might,” Genji says with a wink, hoping to plant a seed of doubt in your mind.

 

“Okay?”

 

Genji smirks, supposing you would try to play it cool, but it’s written all over you face, how you glance to the right,past Dad’s room into Hanzo’s. BFF to the rescue, ready to give you two the push you need to get together.

 

You didn’t look forward to this night at all, not even the yacht. You wished… you could spend it _in_?! In fact, you’re planning an excuse to return here early? Just so you could sleep in the same house as Sojiro!? What is happening to you… You’re that party girl, the only one who can keep up with Genji. You gotta get rid of those thoughts, and fast. Sojiro is fifty-two, double your age, a mob boss, _and_ he’s your best friend’s dad.

 

You do a lot more drinking than getting ready, so when Hanzo shouts, “Hurry up!” from downstairs, you’re stumbling and scrambling around the room while Genji is dashing out the door. You throw on some lipstick and double check that nothing is in your teeth before stumbling out into the hallway to join the brother.

 

You’re not two steps out the door before a hand catches your arm. You turn, expecting to see Genji, but Sojiro’s handsome smile melting your heart instead. His closeness heats your face;the aloneness heats your neck. He only intended to tell you good-bye, but your lips meet and his tongue slides over the first good thing he’s tasted all week. In that moment, he held you again and felt at home in his own skin, and he never wants it to end.

 

Genji yells up, “I forgot my charger!”

 

You both break away suddenly and you call back, “I’ll get it!”

 

You turn to go back intoGenji’s room, but Sojiro grabs your hand and pulls you in for one more close kiss, whispering, “Please be safe.” before kissing your forehead too.

 

“I promise,” you whisper and then kiss his nose, “You too!”

 

You’re already swaying a little, but Sojiro let’s you go, knowing you could handle yourself through a lot worse. You fly into Genji’s room and then down the stairs to your high heels, struggling to buckle them as love drunk and drunk drunk as you were.

 

“Oh shit, the dumplings!” you say.

 

“Don’t worry, _I_ put them away, all eleven,” Hanzo sneers.

 

Sojiro had eaten just one dumpling? Who does that? Did you read the directions wrong or something? Maybe you should go apologize for dinner…

 

“We’re leaving Dad! Love you!” Genji calls out.

 

“I love you Dad!” Hanzo shouts back.

 

“Love you both!”

 

On the other hand, tequila sounds great right now.

 

 

When you finally return to Shimada Castle, you’re stunned by the silence. No visiting relatives, cooks, maids, not even security. After shedding your shoes, you tiptoe inside, feeling a bit unnerved by the quiet, only able to pick out one sound…

 

Scrubbing tile? Maybe there was a maid here, but upstairs? At this three AM? Genji and Hanzo were still at the afterparty when you left. Certainly they could have departed shortly after you and arrived just before, but why would either one of them be cleaning? You should know better than to investigate sketchy things in a yakuza house, but here you are, at the source, in Sojiro’s master bathroom, watching a man richer than small countries scrub his own tile.

 

“Were you sick?” you ask, seeing that he’s not going to acknowledge your presence.

 

“I was. I’m fine now.”

 

Maybe his vigorous scrubbing made him that sweet and exhausted, but you’re not so sure. As he stands to wash his hands, you press, “100%?”

 

“Soon. That’s why I haven’t said anything about it.”

 

There’s something about that phrasing you don’t like, but he’s expressionless, not giving any hints. With a shrug you concede, “People do come out the woodwork the minute they find out you have a cold.”

 

“I’m so glad you understand,” he says. He’s using a prescription antiseptic mouthwash… Was this happening often? Maybe you’re thinking too much but everything about this feels suspicious, like you walked in on something.

 

“I’m worried about you.”

 

“It’s nothing. That’s _it_.” He ended that with the finality and authority of an oyuban, marking the end of your polite inquiries.

 

“I’m going to go get you ginger ale,” you say, excusing yourself from the tension.

 

When you’re downstairs, you contemplate texting one of the brothers. You feel like there’s pieces of a puzzle before you and all you’ve figure out is how to annoy him.You nursed Sojiro through the flu last winter, so it’s strange that he would be hiding a little food poisoning-

 

Oh shit! You made the dumplings! You _did_ read the directions wrong! You fed him and you _killed_ him! You rush upstairs with a newfound resolve to take care of him, but the bathroom door was closed, and the shower was on. You don’t think about Sojiro scrubbing that etched body clean, the soap running over muscles highlighting his richly colored tattoos. Nope, definitely just you and this can of ginger ale, doing absolutely nothing wrong, even if you are sitting on his bed, tense as he emerges in only a towel.

 

Your dazed stare bolsters his bruised self esteem as he walks closer to you, commenting, “I promise that I brushed my teeth twice.”

 

You cannot believe a man his age is cut so well, now eye level with his etched stomach, replying dreamily, “Do you want some ginger ale?”

 

“In a moment perhaps,” he answers, his mind far, far from anything that wasn’t how your chest threatened to spill out. You roll over to your side to put the can on the night stand, your short dress riding up, revealing that you’re still wearing the black one with the thong. He makes no move to hide how he looked you over, grateful you were in much better shape than the last time you wore it, more sober than when he kissed you in the hall.

 

“By the way, Sojiro,” you say, turning back to him, “I’m sorry about screwing up those dumplings and giving you food poisoning!”

 

You tried to give the clan head a proper, deep bow, but he catches your head, lifting it slightly so your face was low and level with his cock. He holds you there for a long moment, studying how your eyes flickered between his and his barely concealed cock, his heart galloping in his chest. Hearing his own name, seeing the concern and lust in your eyes almost tricks him into thinking you care for him, making his voice soft and sweetwhen he replies, “It’s not your fault.”

 

“I- Is- there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

 

“Babe…” he murmurs, your eyes now completely focused on what’s beneath that towel. His thumb unhooks the twisted fabric, letting it drop to the floor and reveal his half-hard, cock, the head barely pushing past the foreskin. You take it immediately and coat the whole length in your saliva, lips leaving his dick to suck on his balls and then take it all in the back of your throat again. You finally had oyuban’s cock in your mouth, and you weren’t going to hold back now.

 

His ego swells and all his aches fade as you take him deep. He can’t remember how hellish he felt earlier, holding your soft face as you suck your cheeks in. This is exactly what he needed, and he gently rolls his hips to encourage how often you took his dick down that tight space. He opens you up quickly, soon cradling both sides as he fucked your mouth. He groans at how easily you turned into a slut for him, watching you take it even as the pace picked up and he began steadily pumping it into your mouth.

 

Even still, your willingness outpaces his roughness, and you take back control with sloppy strokes that choked you at times. Sojiro’s grip slackens, his hand twitching and you worked him down with a tongue that never stopped moving. As fast as you moved and as thick as his cock was, you manage your breathing, hoping the relentlessness would take him right to the edge.

 

He’s right there, and he should blow his load before anyone comes home, but he doesn’t know when he’ll get this again. His calloused hands twist through your hair, pulling you away until you only get the head. You suck the precum from the tip, swallowing with an unreal tightness that threatens to make him moan. Still listening for the front door, Sojiro slowly pushes it in the back of your throat again. Holding your head firmly in place, he fucks your throat steadily, knowing he shouldn’t be violating youthis roughly.

 

“Damn, babe,” he says, his strained whisper only fueling you to do more for him. His legs are starting to shake, as he slowly remembers how amazing it is to fill a mouth. You take all of his lust with grace, letting him fuck your throat like you don’t have to breath. “Fuck, I could finish right here, right now.”

 

With your moan and nod, he was already defeated. He manages to pull back, but the first spurt is still straight down your throat, the rest filling your mouth. With hazy eyes, Sojiro listens to your swallow, whimpering as you take down the last swell.. He releases you, but you pull away slowly, your tongue threatening to make every sensation sharp as you clean him off. He pulls your hand away, crawling on top of you so he could feel that soft body on his, hoping to persuade you into another, round, pulling you close and murmuring,“I showered.”

 

“I know,” you murmur back as he kisses your neck, “You smell good, like sandalwood and… orange…?”

 

“Orange blossom,” he says, now kissing your back. You remember what he said earlier in the kitchen, wondering if he thought about you in the shower and his hands roam all over your body. “So beautiful,” and he kisses you just under where your swimsuit top in tied, “So fragrant,” and another, “So unique...” and another, “My orange blossom.”

 

“You’re so sweet…”

 

“You deserve it,” he says as he begins unzipping your dress, kissing the newly exposed places. “You understand me so well.”

 

“I try to,” you confess, the kisses making all your hair stand on end.

 

“You understand not to make fuss about nothing,” he murmurs, his voice hot and rich over your skin.

 

The comment doesn’t track well with you; the oral made you forget he was ever sick. To you, it read as a comment about this affair, illicit, quiet, nothing to make a fuss about because it was _nothing…_ You scoff at yourself. Sure, you have all these confused emotions for him, but who did you think you were? He was oyuban, and you were just a hole to fuck, probably one of many.

 

Sojiro senses he said something wrong, but he doesn’t know what, struggling to find the right words to ask. The front door suddenly opens, and you spring out of his embrace, darting out of his room without so much as a glance, leaving him confused, content, anxious, and moody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Imagine Sojiro having the flu and feeling like shit but it's kind of worth it because you check on him when the boys aren't around and it's one of the rare times he has you all to himself.................cute........
> 
> Someday I'll sit down and actually write a story and not do the ass backwards thing of making plot after the fact just so they can fuck again. Someday, I'll write a true slow burn where they don't touch for ten chapters, as I love to read and always intend to write. Today,,,,, is not that day.


	3. Prada Suit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've got a new suit and you're pretty proud of it. Sojiro approves as well.

Genji was just reaching the bottom floor as you stepped into the front door of Shimada castle.

 

“Let’s appreciate the Louboutins before I take them off,” you say, flashing your red-bottomed heels to him.

 

“Girl! You look boujee!” Genji says as he rushes over to you, “Prada suit, red lip, killer heels. I take it those keys sold well.”

 

“Better than well!”

 

Oh yeah?”

 

You hear Sojiro in the kitchen and you know he’s listening, so you opt for the old standby: “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

 

Your associates and the Shimadas are not in direct competition; you sell drugs which is the only pie the Shimadas don’t have a finger in. Still, it’s in their interest to keep an eye on anyone in the underground, and your group is far too small to feel comfortable under their heavy gaze. The oyuban exits the kitchen as if on cue, acting as if he was merely investigating the commotion at the door.

 

“Hello Shimada-sama,” you greet politely. The fact that you were permitted to address him directly at all was something of a status symbol, so you never push your luck. You’re not sure _anyone_ calls him Sojiro, actually; you once heard his own mother call him Shimada-sama. He hasn’t corrected you yet so you stick with the rule: Shimada-sama in the streets, Sojiro in the sheets.

 

“I see you’ve finally invested in a good suit,” he comments, looking you over with cold, disaffected eyes and a disapproving smile.

 

You flush because you _do_ have another suit, but it’s so cheap you have to assume that it doesn’t count. Manners dictate you graciously accept the compliment regardless of any backhandedness. “Thank you Shimada-sama-”

 

“I’m surprised they didn’t tailor it for you.”

 

He’s really just roasting you like that, huh? In front of your best friend, no less. Sheepishly, you offer. “I- I thought it looked okay, and the clerk said it wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow.”

 

“And you have an engagement tonight.”

 

“Hot date with Chow Chow,” Genji teases.

 

“No,” you snap, “It is strictly business.” Although you’re not sure which sounds worse.

 

“Pft, please,” Genji retorts, rolling his eyes, “Chow Chow wants it.”

 

“ _Lawrence_ can think whatever he wants but we’re talking numbers tonight!” you say, nervously taking off your heels, hoping to continue this conversation in the relative safety of Genji’s room.

 

“Lawrence isn’t his real name… I bet if you asked him he would tell you,” Genji adds with a wink.

 

Sojiro interjects, “I could help you prepare swiftly for your… meeting.”

 

Your blood is cold at his clipped tone, and yet you can only agree and follow him. Genji sees you pale and rolls his eyes, perpetually unconvinced his father was capable of anything heinous or harmful. As you follow Sojiro, you remember seeing his dragon, just once, and the sight was so fearsome, you dreamt of that dragon every night for at least a month. Sometimes you still do.

 

You tense tightly when he takes you passed his family’s rooms, to the back stairs that lead to the third floor. You’ve been up here a handful of times with Genji, the abandoned floor being the perfect spot to do drugs.He leads you to the only room with a mattress in it, and you look inside suddenly, wondering if this is where you’re going to die.

 

His fingertips brush your cheek, bringing your attention back to him. The heat in your face makes his heart flutter, but he pulls his hand away. “Your suit is perfect. It doesn’t need altered at all.” You give and understanding nod andmove to kiss him and he pulls back despite the electricity coursing through him. “Don’t think you have to do this because I am the oyuban.” You say nothing, pulling back incredulously as you try to detect his true motive. “I could not- I would never-” His heart sinks into his stomach, but he retains some dignity by keeping his voice steady. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood.”

 

You have never seen this man give anyone so much as a head nod and he bows deeply to you. You wait for a long moment, at a loss for words, but the shame keeps his head low.All at once, your passion returns and you grab the collar of his yukata. Sojiro is almost certain you were going to slap him, but his soul leaps when you kiss him.After the initial shock, his lips part for you, pulling you in before you laced your fingers in his. Warmth fills both of your bodies as you melt together in that moment. A lightness he had been missing fills he aching bones and suddenly he feels alive. He holds this memory tightly, taking you in with each soft movement of your lips.

 

You pull away from Sojiro for a breath, squeezing both of his hands, which he returns with a grin. Full of adolescent giddiness, he fights a smile, but it builds in him and turns into a small laugh that makes him flush. Lost for words, he kisses your nose and then your mouth again, finding it hard to keep your lips connected when he’s so happy.

 

“What?” you tease him as he breaks away with a little laugh.

 

“I dunno. I- I guess I’m just really happy,” he replies nervously.

 

“Good,” you answer quietly as you tug on his hands and bring him closer again.

 

He doesn’t know how long he kissed you. Long enough to finally stumble into the room, to collapse on the mattress, to carefully unbutton your blouse, to shed his yukata, to build a layer of sweat from the hot upstairs and the lust that mounted as your bare chest rubs against his. He lays you back onto the mattress gently, sliding his hands out as he kisses you from your stomach, up to your breasts, tracing your collarbone before his softly works from your neck to your ear.

 

“You don’t have to do this,” he murmurs his cock only kept from you by two layers of thin fabric. “I only want to if you want to.”

 

“I do,” you answer warmly as your arms wrap around his back and pull him down closer until he is almost laying on top of you. He lightly sucks behind your ear, making his way around your jaw until he found the most sensitive path down your neck, a place where his chaste kisses give you shivers all the way down. You reach down for his underwear and he pulls it down for you. Your hand wraps around his cock, thumb running over a drop of precum as you were reminded exactly how hard and thick he was.

 

“It’s been awhile,” you murmur as you twist your hand down his shaft.

 

“It’s been four days,” he scoffs, thinking, “ _Try twelve years”_.

 

“Have you been counting?” you ask.

 

He glances down, looking so _innocently_ at you when he answers, “Yes.”

 

Your other hand pulls his head towards yours so you could kiss him softly.

 

“Are you sure you want to fuck?” he murmurs as he lowers his cock a little closer to your hips. You writhe, trying to make-up for the distance.

 

“Yes,” you say, arching up even further, aching for

 

“Tell me how much you want it,” he demands, moving close enough that his cock could brush your hips.

 

“Please Sojiro, I want your cock!” you say, shifting up a little so that the head could trace your slit.

 

He groans; you’re already soaked for him and he can feel the heat from your body. “Say it again.”

 

“Please, Sojiro-”

 

“Say my name,” he says, pushing his cock closer.

 

“Sojiro, Sojiro, Sojiro…”

 

His breathing deepens as your soft whimpers become high-pitched and your hips grow frantic. You’re absolutely shameless in your begging, and he tortures you with a slow pace. Every moment, every moan strokes his ego and makes him want to slam into all at once. You release his dick and try to pull him closer on your own. His hands slip and now he’s close enough that your legs wrap around him and pull him in. As he’s sheathed inside of you, you arch into it and he whimpers, “That’s right baby. Take everything you want.”

 

You give him no time to adjust, fucking his solid cock as roughly, earning little cries that pleaded for you to slow. He’s tormented you too long to earn that, and you needed this friction to tip over the edge. He still pants, “Take it all, take it all, oh fuck-” You yank on his hair suddenly, stopping to enjoy all your orgasm. He takes back control, fucking you through it. You struggle to stay quiet and he covers your mouth.

 

Sojiro struggles to right himself, determined to make you melt into the mattress again before he does. He uncovers your mouth, moving slowly through aftershocks. The warmth builds slowly in you, the shape of his cock feeling perfect. Your fingers trace over his beautiful ink covering his chest while he’s sawing in and out steadily. He rolls his hips as he works and the curve of his cock following your walls perfectly. You attempt to bounce your hips and he catches you this time, pinning you there and he fucks you half as quickly as you want.

 

“Tell me what you want.”

 

“Fuck me!” you demand loudly. He hand clasps over your mouth tightly, pushing your face into the mattress as your pussy quivers.

 

“You’re one of those sluts that likes to be choked, aren’t you?” he mutters darkly. You nod for him, and instantly his hand is on your throat. “Fuck, how can you be that _tight?_ ”

 

His sharp gaze is softening as he pounds your hole, amazed at how well you wrapped around him. He can hear how wet you are, and shamelessly looks down to see his cock covered in wet and orgasm. His hands releases your throat and suddenly he has the freedom to use his full strength to fuck you into the mattress.

 

This time he has momentum when he starts choking you, his strength able to overcome the sudden tightness. Your face flushes and you still look up at him like he’s everything to you. He sits up when he give you another gasp of air, heart jumping as you watched him. He puts one leg on your shoulder and he inches closer, the other hand grasping your throat again. He listens to your whimper as he slides in deeper, sighing happily with the tip reaches your limit.

 

“That’s _deep_!” you cry out softly as his hand tightens slightly

 

“I love being this deep inside of you,” he says as stirs your insides.

 

“Fuck yes, it feels good,” you moan back with shivers jolting through your body, “Just b- be careful, please.”

 

“Oh I’ll be very careful with you,” he answers as he keeps grinding his hips into you. Your legs trembles, and he strokes the outside in an effort to soothe you. “Too much?”

 

You reach up and take him by shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss. His body pushes on your leg, bending in back and he moans as your tongue swipes his.

 

“Fuck yes, Sojiro, you’re _really_ deep!” you whisper between breaths, your lips meeting sloppily again.

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Fill me!”

 

“Baby… please…” he moans, coils of heat building in him

 

“I need-” and your breathing hitches at the first swell, Sojiro dumping his entire load far into you. The way it pumps inside of you tilts you over the edge and sends shivers down his spine. He can’t pull out until he remembers to breath, and when he all romance disappears from your eyes. Sitting up, he remembers that you have no interest in calling him Sojiro in public and shakes away all of those feelings.

 

“Have fun on your date.”

 

“It’s not a date,” you say, suddenly sitting up, “Seriously, if Lawrence thinks it is, he’s got the situation all backwards-”

 

“I have no claim to you,” Sojiro says as he meticulously redresses.

 

Right, right. Loosey-goose. You’re cool with that, why wouldn’t you be cool with that? It’s a long moment before you look at him, and you see Sojiro is offering you a handkerchief. You blush, knowing you have made a mess of yourself and take it to clean up. He jumps back, withdrawing his hand, watching you. You don’t know what to do, and first dry your face with it and Sojiro bolts out of the room. You feel like that was a Proper Etiquette™ sort of situation but you didn’t realize it in the moment. Too late now; you probably told him to go fuck himself, or something. You clean yourself up as much as you can before you dress and make a dash for the bathroom, where you can finish up.

 

“That took you forever,” Genji remarks and you enter his room.

 

“Give me a cigarette,” you demand.

 

“You look like you need to go out… if only you didn’t have ‘business’ with Chow Chow tonight… There’s some wild shit going down tonight.” Genji is giving you puppy dog eyes and wiggling his eyebrows, but it would take far less to sell you on the idea of getting away.

 

“Only if we get ready at my house.”

 

Genji agrees so quickly, you know you’re in for a long night. It’s not until ten AM the next day that you even think about handkerchief with a red dragon embroidered on it at all.

 

And that’s because Hanzo found it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Sojiro...................... cute. I am all about the MOST obscure character in a series...... also older men............ also dilfs.... also a lot of things that this man is an intersection of. I love him.


	4. Brunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Hanzo found that handkerchief...

Your vibrating phone drags you out of sleep, causing you to fall out of the chair you had been napping in. Half-stunned, unsure of what day it is, you grab your phone and stumble outside, figuring Genji can wait another thirty seconds. Upon closing the front door, you realize you’re at Kanna’s apartment, which is luckily only one floor below yours. You check your wallet as your phone goes to voicemail, finding everything in order.

 

Your phone starts ringing again as you fumble for your keys, also intact. You’ve used a suspicious amount of luck today, and answer Genji cautiously, “Hey, what’s up?”

 

“You need to come to the house,” he says, sounding wholly out-of-character.

 

“Oh yeah? What for?” you say as you make your way up the stairs to your apartment.

 

“There’s been a misunderstanding,” Genji replies as you arrive on your floor.

 

You immediately feel something is off and rush to your door, which stands wide open. “Genji! I- I’ve been robbed! There’s shit everywhere! The whole place was ransacked!”

 

“I know,” he says, trying to force his voice to be flat, but his sympathy showing through. “Please come to the house, and everything will be explained.”

 

You step inside, over the overturned bookshelf, and into your bedroom. You look up see a panel has been moved in the drop ceiling, exactly where you stashed Sojiro’s handkerchief that night before going out.

 

Putting the pieces together, you reply casually, “Lemme just lock up here and I’ll be over.”

 

The only saving grace was that they trusted you to walk the five or so clocks on your own, sending no escort. This gave you time to come up with a lie, and you would need every bit of rehearsal time. It is Sunday at 10AM, AKA Shimada family brunch. All of Sojiro’s siblings, his mother (Genji’s grandmother), Genji, Hanzo, and maybe Masako will be inside, sitting around, just waiting to hear this latest piece of gossip.

 

Genji meets you at the door, dressed quite sharply in a black yukata, reminding you that you’re gonna be the only asshole in Western clothing. You greet each other politely; sound carries well into the dining room and he can’t be seen getting too chummy with “the common folk”. The only person that hated this asinine etiquette more than you was Genji, who detested being pressured to treat you like less.

 

When you enter the dining room, Genji quickly takes his seat. You’re not sure what to do, so you stand there, dully noting everyone was in fact here, including Masako.

 

“ _A_ _whole l_ _otta Shimada,”_ you note to yourself.

 

“We just wanted to settle a matter of gossip,” Zenko says from the end. There’s always one council member that’s totally nuts, and in this yakuza, it’s her.

 

You can’t flinch now. “Sure, sure.”

 

Before she can start a proper interrogation, Genji interjects, “Why the hell did you have my dad’s handkerchief? Are you fucking oyuban?”

 

Everyone is too shocked by his brazen accusation to stop you from answering him, “Noooo! I found it on our way out on Thursday. I didn’t wanna lose it, so I put it in my apartment.”

 

“But why not tell me?”

 

“I was afraid you would think something weird was going on.”

 

“How’s that working out for ya?” Noritoshi chides.

 

“Less than ideal. I should have been straight up about it, Genji. Sorry.”

 

Genji shrugs. “At least you’re not fucking my dad.”

 

There’s a few noises of disgust, and Grandma scolds Genji with, “Such language.”

 

Noritoshi is not so satisfied, asking, “But, why hide it, darling?”

 

“A friend of mine has a key to the place. Knowing my luck, she’d be looking for a lighter and find it.”

 

“Well,” Noritoshi says with a shrug, “That’s due diligence, right?”

 

Zenko rolls her eyes, and then glances at her older sister, who presses you one last time, “But why not give it to a guard, or return it to his room?”

 

“I didn’t want anyone to start any rumors. I was trying to keep it on the DL.”

 

Gotō, the middle child of the five, rarely spoke, but he got straight to the point when he did: “Hanzo said that he witnessed you ‘cherishing’ it.”

 

“When,” you say flatly, directly to Hanzo. You know when. When you were in your apartment, holding it close to you before you stowed it away. You must have been visible from the single window you have, which literally faces a brick wall, but you wouldn’t be surprised if there were pictures.

 

However, should Hanzo actually admit he was spying on you inside your apartment, the entire family will be in a flurry because Hanzo was spying on a _~girl~_ and he has not shown any interest in anyone in years, being colder than winter itself. He knows this; you know this; checkmate. Hanzo replies, “Perhaps I was hasty to protect my family’s honor.”

 

“Damn, tell me how you really feel,” you scoff.

 

“My, my,” Grandma sighs, clearly disappointed. “Oyuban, invite her to sit with us and maybe she can learn some manners.”

 

“Why don’t you clean up and join us?” Sojiro says warmly. It’s not a question. You go upstairs and get cleaned up, as per instructions. Luckily, the maids wash whatever clothes they find, regardless of whose they are, so you practically have a closet in Genji’s room. The only yukata you have is painfully cheap, but it’s the only one you have here. And so what? These people are never gonna like you; hell, you’re surprised Genji likes you.

 

When you arrive downstairs, you take your seat next to your friend, just one space away from Sojiro. This wasn’t your first Shimada brunch rodeo, and you buckle up. It was equally likely that you could fall asleep sitting up as this luncheon could end in kung-fu and other fisticuffs. The endless mimosas eased the tension as much as they sparked it, but you’re keen to drink up either way.

 

Genji is lit as tits offering a fistbump as you down your first glass. “Hey sorry about all that, but I stuck up for you! I told them it was a big misunderstanding.”

 

“It’s fine,” you say lightly. “I know how you two are always on the thot patrol.”

 

“Young lady!” Grandma hisses.

 

“Uh, I mean, protecting his honor from suitors without honor?”

 

“Better,” Hanzo says, as if he doesn’t curse every other word.

 

“Plus,” you say in a lower voice, “I doubt Shimada-sama is into hookers.”

 

Kimimoto gulps her drink as the rest of the family sighs in defeat and disgust. You look at Genji woefully and he shrugs, saying, “Yeah, I didn’t think he’d ever have a favorite escort to give his handkerchief too.”

 

“You speak of our ways like an outsider writing an exposé,” Hanzo snaps, “The tradition is reserved for women that you love but cannot be with publicly for whatever reason… which is yes, often, a sex worker. The handkerchief is a sign of your heart’s dedication when your honor forbids it.”

 

Masako clarifies, “It more or less means that someone loves you, but not enough to marry you.”

 

This nuance surprises you, and you reply, “Well then,” before taking a bite of your food. You play if off, not at all thinking of the double edged sword of her statement: Sojiro loves you, but it’s never going to be public. It’s always going to be behind closed doors.

 

“Are you coming to my wedding?” Masako asks cheerily.

 

“Of course!” you answer, grateful for the distraction. “It’s gonna be great!”

 

“What are you wearing?” she asks.

 

“Oh, I still gotta buy something for it.”

 

“Mmm…” she says, glancing over your outfit.

 

“It’s not gonna be this cheap. It’s gonna be fine,” you retort defensively.

 

“You know that it’s traditional, right?” she presses.

 

You resent the implication you can’t afford something nice enough, but you have enough sense sense to hold that thought until brunch is over and you’re alone with Genji in his room.

 

“Your family loves drama,” you gripe.

 

“You’re not wrong,” Genji says as he adjusts his training gi, “Don’t take it personally. They don’t like outsiders, so they don’t like you, you know?”

 

“I have been around for six years,” you protest. “I literally yanked you out of a cop car. That’s how we became friends. I put my life and freedom on the line for you from day one-”

 

“You could take a bullet for the oyuban, and they’d still give you side-eye,” Genji says, disaffected by your mood. “I mean, think of it this way: we trust you to be alone in our house, so…”

 

Hanzo opens the door and sticks his head in. “Are you ready?”

 

“Yeah,” Genji says, “Is Dad coming?”

 

“He has some e-mails to catch up on,” Hanzo reports calmly, although you know he’s as disappointed as Genji. “Sparring is fun with just the two of us.”

 

Genji ignores that and turns to you, “Are you staying here or going home?”

 

“I’m gonna go home, but I’m gonna try to take some of my clothes with me,” you say, grimly noting you have crap all over the place, on piles, in the closet, over mirrors, under the bed…

 

Sojiro listens from the other side, pausing his office work to compose himself. He was truly busy, but there were so few opportunities where he would have you to himself. Genji and Hanzo will be in another part of the complex entirely andthe household staff was still cleaning up the mess of brunch-

 

He shakes his head. If he had time for you, he had time for his sons. How could he turn his back on his two children’s training, just for a dalliance? Although… he _should_ touch base with you about the handkerchief incident. He closes his laptop and puts his phone on silent as the brothers walk out of the main house.

 

Genji’s door opens silently and Sojiro catches you muttering. “Fuckers and their drama,” under your breath.

 

“My family? Never.”

 

“Shimada-sama,” you gasp as you whirl around. “I- I-”

 

He holds up his hand. “I know better than anyone how my family can be.”

 

“I’m sorry!! I thought I had it hidden well! Fuck, that’s where I put all of my drugs too…” you mutter.

 

Sojiro’s face crinkles into a cringe; the police always know to search a drop ceiling. You were amateurish in your criminal enterprises, and it was bound to drag you away from him someday. Without thinking, he closes the distance between the two of you, wrapping his arms around you, protecting you like he should have earlier today. He just let the wolves circle you, helpless… disloyal… serving his own interests before one he claimed to love… Still,you sigh happily in his embrace, returning the warmth and squeezing all the ache out of him.

 

“I missed you,” you say, stealing a kiss from him.

 

“I missed you too,” he replies before he returns it. “I was worried.”

 

“Cute,” you remark.

 

His reply is another kiss, too weary to explain how much you were on his mind. It feels like sweet relief to taste you again and he holds you a moment longer than his schedule will allow.

 

“I have a lot of work to do,” he says, not very convincing because your finger tracing his neck is stealing his breath.

 

“I can be quick, Daddy,” you reply, and when he looks disappointed, you add, “I promise we’ll make love next time.”

 

He doesn’t care if you said that to tease, Sojiro holds you to it, sealing the promise with his lips. He leads you by the hand out into the hall before tugging you into his own bedroom. The kiss there is more heated, trying to make up for all the time he didn’t have for this.

 

You untie your premade obi very quietly, hoping you can get it off before herealizes this whole ensemble was from the 1,000¥ bin. Sojiro tries to help you and you shoo away his hands before he can feel the cheap fabric. Truthfully, he couldn’t care less about such things, hurt that you think he would be so shallow. He racks his brain, trying to think of something to say when you break off the kiss, but as you lie back on the bed, his mind is blank. You beckon him forward with one finger, expecting him to undress himself, but he kneels down without removing anything.

 

“You’re beautiful,” he says as he parts your legs slightly.

 

“Psh, you’ve seen better,” you tease back.

 

“No, I have not,” he answers firmly, and you shrink at his annoyance. More gently, he continues. “No one occupies my mind like you.”

 

You look unsure of how to take his compliment, and that wounded him deeply. He needed to make such affection more common for you, until you let yourself smile and melt at it. He leans forward and kisses your bare legs , starting on your ankle and marking every place on the way up. He knows he’s too overwhelmed with work to allow such an indulgence but you need this diligence and worship. He’ll kiss every part of you and make up for the neglect you’ve endured at the hands of unworthy suitors.

 

Every peck is warm, loving, making your whole body awash with heat. There isn’t a place that he misses, and each one feels more sweet than the last. You almost stop him, remind him that he’s busy, but you take every onein greedy bliss. Despite his chastity, you’re tensing ever more tightly as switched to the other. His warm exhale almost relaxes you, but each sharp breath in was enough to keep you sitting perfectly still. Sometimes he dotted each equally, other times the heat built in one place that he praised over and over.

 

A kiss finally lands in your inner thigh, just above the knee and you nearly cry out. You can feel him smiling as he works even more meticulously here. A hot sigh between your legs makes your pussy ache with want and entices his fingers closer to your sex. He glimpses how it already glistens as his fingertips trace the outer edge of the slit.

 

“Sojiro…” you murmur quietly which makes him outline you only slightly closer. That’s almost worse, tantalizing you even more, but not enough for you to call him to stop. Every time you think you can bear it, he moves in closer, his mouth at the top of your thigh now, sucking on the flesh as his fingers trace inward. His tongue brushes with each sloppy pull, and he glances up at you, smug, enjoying your fight unraveling with ever meted breath.

 

His mouth moves to crevice where your thigh meets your hips, painfully close to your hole that is dripping but unattended. Your fingers find themselves laced through his hair, soft except for the wiry strands of gray. You whimper and plead as your muscles burn with a need for release that was certain to come from the simplest touch. You begin to wonder if he only means to torment you, to keep you on edge for an entire day before he has time to fuck you, and you give soft maons of protest to the idea.

 

You try to guide him to where you need, but Sojiro resists at first, enjoying listen to your cries which you struggle to keep at a whisper. You pull at him a second time, and he moves. You think that he will find some other way to tease you, but his tongue parts you and you put on hand on your mouth before your moan tightly. The other hand still holds his hair, burying his face into you as you came on his face. All at once, his tongue inside of you become too sharp, and you push him away, apologizing weakly as the warmth of your orgasm radiates from you.

 

You lay there a long moment before Sojiro returns with a damp towel for you. He intended to clean you, but you snatch it out of his hand and jump up in an instant.

 

“You haven’t even got yours,” you say, noting he never even undressed.

 

Taking both of your hands, he brings them to his lips and kisses them both before answering, “I am very busy, and I would like a cigarette before I resume work.”

 

“Sure!” you say, hastily grabbing your yukata from the floor. You shake it out and sling it over your shoulder when you feel Sojiro’s hands on your back. You pause a moment, and he centers it properly, causing you to stand up straight and let him work. From here, you can see your reflection in the long mirror on the opposite side of the room, and the oyuban carefully primping the curve of your collar until it laid perfectly.

 

He lays it over your chest with the care of an artist, and truly you feel as special as a geisha. Your hem are lined up crisply, and the pattern falls beautifully, the way he has it spilling over your sash. He makes no remark about the pre-made obi, wrapping it as if it were made of the most precious silk, around the most delicate doll. He ties the strings into neat bows, and carefully tucks them before he steps back to admire you.

 

“My orange blossom,” he says as he circles around.

 

“Wh- Why do you call me that?” you ask, almost defensive.

 

By now he knows that you’re simply not used to devotion, so he replies warmly, “Because they are pure, beautiful, and they never fade.”

 

Pure? Pure?! Does he know you?! You, the party girl, the drug dealer, the- the- thot!! Sure, you haven’t slept with anyone else lately, but you had a reputation and it was not pure! Did he expect you to give all that up? Act as a housewife? Your mind is suddenly flooded with a hundred questions about what all this _means._

 

Sojiro’s phone rings, and your panicked mind uses it as an excuse to slip out. He catches you by the wrist, as if he was going to say something, but no words came. The phone rings a fourth time and he releases you before going to it, his eyes lingering on where you had stood in front of the mirror, confused or scared, he did not know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I love Sojiro so much........ whatta babe.....

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!
> 
> Now that tumblr imploded, you can find me on twitter @ lucklesslady
> 
> Sojiro has no confirmed appearance but we all naturally lust after him and I think that's great. Poor old man, raising two kids by himself, heading a clan... he just needs some lovings you know?
> 
> Just the Tip still isn't an official tag and I hate that because clearly that is my THING


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